A hard three words to say
by Missile.x
Summary: Edgeworth has a little trouble communicating the truth to Phoenix. Can he tell him how he feels before it's too late? T for swearing and slight sexual reference.


**So, as much as I'm in love with the idea of Phoenix/Maya, I can't lie and say I haven't always wanted to write a fic about these two. Okay, it's not exactly what I dreamed about writing, y'know, it's not an epic, crime, thriller where the two fall madly in love and get it on at the same time as being in deep denile about their sexuality, but meh, this was an idea I had too. Hope you like it. :') **

**One more thing, i couldn't get lines in-between the seperate Phoenix and Edgeworth POV's so i had to do Phoenix in **normal** writing and Edgeworth in **_italics. _**I still think it's a little confusing but it was the best i could do. I did everything i could to try and get breaks but it was the best i could do.**

It was getting on for eleven clock.

_Great_. I think, _nearly time to go._

Normally I wouldn't have to leave, I'd be allowed another few hours of lying there, Edgeworth's arm snaked around my shoulders and my head gently rested Edgeworth's chest.

But tonight I can't. I have to leave any minute and get a good nights sleep as I was in court the next day. Of course, if you ask me here and now what meant more to me; the money from the case or being able to stay just where I was, I'd have instantly opt to stay there. Unfortunately, I have a feeling I'll feel differently when the bills come next week.

So I stretch and feel Edgeworth's arm fall away as I lean forward and stand.

"I have to go now." I say, making sure I make it clear how little I want to and yet at the same time feeling a slight bit of satisfaction as Edgeworth's face drops, showing the feeling's mutual.

"Already? You've only been here for a few hours Wright-"

"I've been here since five when I got off work; that's like, six hours!" I remark, my eyebrows raised but with a slight smile, loving how time passes so quickly when we we're together. Edgeworth was right. It had only seemed like a few hours since I'd arrived.

Glancing over at the clock Edgeworth sighs. "I guess you're right . . ." he replys, getting up and coming with me to the front door to say goodbye.

So, the end of the evening wasn't always the worst part necessarily, it had it's perks I decide as he pulls me into a steady kiss, his tongue lightly dabbing at mine as we fall against the front door, his hand running up my back into my hair. I allow myself to enjoy this at least for a little while. Heck, I can't help but enjoy it. I mean, just touching him in the most innocent of ways drive me crazy and I hardly even have my head around the fact we're dating. In fact, more than that; we're practically in a serious relationship. I come round whenever I have a spare hour and he isn't working. I keep some of my things in a draw in his night stand. I even have my own _toothbrush_ here as I sleep round here so often it was annoying to keep packing the one from home. I'm happy, he _makes_ me happy and I can't believe my own, amazing luck at getting to be with him so much.

I've been musing about this while we've been there, kissing passionately against the door, but I quickly come to realise that if I don't leave now, I'll be easy to tempt into staying the night.

"Mmph," is the odd noise that comes from my lips, all too aware of how tight my trousers are starting to feel "I really, really have to go-" but he cuts me off again with another kiss, I fight him for dominance for a second but push him away, stopping to gaze at his face for a second as my face comes away from his. God, _that face. _It's actual perfection to me. I love it . . . screw that, I love _him_.

The realisation hit me like a ton of bricks but I quickly figure out I must've felt this way for quite some time and just not known. But now I do.

"Um, Edgeworth?" I say, distracting him as he's already gone to lean in again, "I um, err. Well . . . "

"Jesus, Wright. Just spit it out already-" He says, looking rather amused, one half of his lip curling up.

"I-I love you." I say, garbling it out as hastily as possible, wanting to prolong the moment for as little time as possible. I blush, looking down at the floor, not wanting to look him in the eye. I know he'll be shocked and by the sound of his stuttering he sounds downright lost for words.

I finally look up, his mouth is hanging open slightly in a way most unlike him. I've never seen Edgeworth look this discomposed, he's even sweating a little.

"Daaaahh . . . um . . . ah-"

I wait for it. I'm sweating now myself, worried and scared, wondering why he isn't saying it back. Surely if he did, he'd have answered by now?

"Th-thanks, Wright." Edgeworth nods and looks down at the floor. "I'll call you tomorrow. " he adds, sounding pretty unconvincing and now not daring to look me in the eyes as he opens the front door.

I have to fight back a wince. _"Thanks"?_ The word runs through my mind over and over again, each time, hiting me like icy water. Ouch.

"K-kay. Um, bye." I reply, stepping out into the dark night air and walking hastily down the drive way, not looking back.

_What a stupid thing to say._ I scold myself, wondering why I had to say it there and then and asking how he could say "thanks" in return. Odd as it felt, I don't so much feel annoyed he hadn't said it back. It's more confusion. I can't wrap my head around the idea that he can experience all the things we are and not feel it too.

It wasn't as though our relationship was one sided with me calling him all the time and him desperately trying to escape. It was equal, he seemed to like me just as much as I like him, so how can he not love me in that way too?

_Ah well_, I tell myself, _He's bound to realise eventually, if he hasn't already. I'm sure I just caught him off guard._

_..._

But the thing is; he doesn't. And if he does, he certainly doesn't say anything about it. I find

myself dreading goodbye, not feeling able to say it myself, hoping, praying he'll lean in and say those three tiny little, yet unbelievably important words.

All the same, I say it once a week, just to remind him. Hoping to eventually ware him down into a confession but I'm left disappointed as he never once says it back. Each time that dreaded response. "Ah, thanks . . . " "Thankyou, Wright. Goodbye." "Goodbye, Wright. Thanks."

I hate it. I almost can't take it any more. One Friday it gets to eleven thirty and I randomly spring on him that I can't stay the night. I've got too much paperwork to do.

"But earlier you said you could stay-"He looks so put out I almost waver.

"Yeah, well, I know I did but um, I forgot about that case I did last week. I forgot to do any of the work for it. Sorry-"

"Well, if you've waited this long to do the paperwork I'm sure people will be able to manage without it another few hours. Just do it tomorrow when you get home." He says, one eye-brow raised, clearly not believing a single word of my unconvincing tale.

"N-no. It's important. It's late as it is. You'll be fine without me."

At least, that's what I'm starting to actually think. How much can he actually like me if he's supposedly not in love with me still? How can he stand there, week after week and _thank_ me for telling him I love him. I shouldn't need to be thanked for telling the truth.

"Wright, why don't you want to stay?" I pretty much saw this coming. I could tell he wasn't buying it, he even has one eyebrow raised, doing that signature smirk of his.

"I do." With no idea why I'm bothering to keep this charade up but I battle with the truth anyway. "I just can't do this-"

"Can't do what?" Edgeworth folds his arms now and narrows his eyes a little. Feeling a little annoyed that _he_ has the nerve to be angry in this situation I snap.

I shake my head. "I can't stay here tonight because it's too hard. It's too hard to spend time with someone who you love so much and just _will not_ tell you they feel the same-"

"Wright-" he starts, looking tired now.

"No, w-we've been together for _eight months_ now, alright? We spend every non-working second together and I can't help but think that if you don't even want to say it back even slightly then how can I assume I'm not wasting my time here!" I'm shouting now. Weeks of pent up frustration are all being realised in one huge, loud rant, showing every angry aspect of my feelings. I want him to know how much he's hurting me.

"Wright-" He says again, but I don't give him time to continue. There are only three words I want to here him say right now and those are "I love you" then he can he can shut the hell up.

"Can you not see how weird this is, Edgeworth? I love you at yet you call me by my surname? It's never bothered me though. I mean, sure, some people find it odd; a couple who've been together eight months and they don't call each other by their first names-"

"You've never complained about this before."

"I've never cared – I _don't_ care because it's just the way we are, well, _you_ are. It works

because it's something we did before that we've carried on since being friends-"

He looks mad now. I try and tell myself I couldn't care less but It's so obvious to him by everything I've just yelled at him that I care; w_ay_ too much.

"Fine, _Phoenix- _or maybe you'd prefer _Nick?_" He replies. It sounds weird coming from him. I don't think I've ever head him use my full name, or any abbreviation before. I quickly decide I hate it. Edgeworth's too prim and proper. All the same, he shouldn't have to be like that around his boyfriend. "If you get so little satisfaction from this relationship then why are you still in it?" His words are harsh, almost emotionless, but then Edgeworth's not like me. He's not one for passionate love-proclaiming speeches. It's frustrating and makes me doubt our relationship even more.

"You know what? I don't even know. And you know the worst part, _Miles?_" I say, putting extra bite into the bit where I say his name. "I don't even believe you don't love me. I just think you're too fucking stubborn to admit it. So have it your way; you won't have to _thank_ me any more if I'm not here to say it." And with that I slam his door behind myself and storm off into the night.

_The minute Wright's gone the anger fades away and I fall down onto the bottom stair, annoyed with myself. How did I manage to mess this up so badly?_

_I knew I'd made a mistake, saying those things, asking him why he's still with me. I already know the answer. He tells me once a week._

_More than anything though, it's irritating because I know he's right. He knows me so well. **Too** well, I start to think. I don't blame him for being angry, he hit a raw nerve though and I retaliated. He'd caught me off guard so many times lately; telling me he loved me and pointing out how weird it is I call my boyfriend of six months by his sir-name. The first I could understand annoying him, the second had hurt me._

_It was weird. He was right. It wasn't so much that I didn't love him, I'd been shocked to realise I did the second he'd said it all those weeks ago. I certainly wasn't afraid of him not saying it back and rejecting me. It was clear that wouldn't happen. My main reason for with-holding the phrase was simply that I'd never said it before. At least, not to a lover. I scan back over my life as I get up and head to the lounge seeking a comfortable spot on the sofa. I'd said it to Franziska before, when we were children, not often at all though. There was something I found awfully uncomfortable about it, unnecessary words which were chucked around all too often these days._

_How was anyone supposed to respect those three words if they were thrown about so readily? I'd heard of teenagers saying to their girlfriends after an hour of going out, people on the television giving passionate speeches to their "loved" ones about how they hated them at the same time. No one seemed to have even the slightest qualm about saying it these days. No one except me._

_I try to picture it; I could probably still catch Wright up. He wasn't the fastest walker and he certainly couldn't drive while I, on the other hand, could. The rain, the thunder, the park Phoenix had to walk through in order to get back to his own house- it was the perfect set up for a confession. I picture myself running, soaking wet, shouting his name out. Phoenix turning around, looking surprised and then comes the confession: "Phoenix, I-I love you." and then finally, the dramatic, Hollywood kiss to top things off. But it just wasn't a viable option to me. There was something about it . . . it just wasn't **me.**_

_It was true though, I'm very much in love with Phoenix Wright and I know he's been damn-right in getting annoyed with me. **Wright deserves to know**, I admit to myself. It's just a matter of finding the right way to do it. Nothing too over the top, it had to be understated but get my point across, all the same._

**_If only I could go back in time_ . . .**_ I think wistfully to myself. **Then an idea hit me-**_**maybe I could?**

The next morning I awake feeling refreshed and in a reasonably good mood … for about ten seconds, before I have time to flash back and remember my argument with Edgeworth, his cold words, the way I'd insinuated I wanted to break up with him. It was horrible, the memory wounded me and I groan into my pillow before turning my phone on to check for messages. There are two. One from Maya:

"Hey Nick, we still good for lunch on Tuesday? Just checkin' cause Pearly wants to come and I figured you wouldn't mind. Maya x x x"

Feeling my heart drop and knowing well I'd hoped it was Edgeworth, I reply quickly with "Yeah, that's no problem. Cya then! xox" trying to sound as happy as possible, not wanting to explain my situation to her at all. I don't really want to talk to anyone. Still my phone's on now so I check the other message.

"Blue phones invites you to get better rewards! Switch to our new Sim card and get unlimited texts and calls for the next month every time you top up £15 or more."

My heart drops again. Is there anything more disappointing to receive while hoping to get a text from your boyfriend pouring out his heart and telling you he's sorry and loves you more than _anything _in the entire world? Okay, I can't exactly picture Edgeworth going that far but an apology or some attempt to get in touch with me would've been nice.

Just that second my phone buzzes;. causing my heart to leap again with what's probably false hope.

"We need to talk about last night. I'm off all day, come round when you can."

And that's it. No kisses, no "sorry". The outlook's grim and my heart, once again, plummets as I get out of bed quickly and pull on some clothes. _Oh well,*_ I think sadly to myself, _might as well get this over with . . ._

I run my hands through my hair nervously, almost unable to believe I've talked myself into this. It all feels so rash, so odd to know he'll be coming round and I'll have to say it, tell him how I really feel.

_Urgh._ My stomach starts to churn and I'm forced to sit down. I've been pacing up and down the living room ever since I'd sent the text. This was an awful idea- I couldn't follow through with it, could I?

Grabbing my phone quickly I toy with the idea of telling him I had to go into work. Knowing full-well this was a pathetic idea which wouldn't actually get me out of the situation, I sigh just as my phone buzzes again.

"I'm on my way over. See you in twenty."

_**Oh God.** I think to myself, worrying I might start hyperventilating. **Oh shit.** **Edgeworth, this was not a good idea. Back out. Cancel on him**. Every thought in my head seems to be telling me not to do this, not to make myself vulnerable like this, luckily, my heart has different ideas. **He deserves to know . . .**_

_Twenty minutes later there's a knock on my door and I have everything ready. I've put glasses out on the table, put the DVD into the machine and put bowls of chips out by the wine. There's even a special piece of paper resting underneath it all for later. I'm sweating like crazy as I open the door, but I try to remain completely composed._

_"Ah Wright, glad you could make it." I say, calmly, leading him through. He looks odd, completely bewildered as we go through into the lounge. "Sit down-" I say, and I take a seat by him on the sofa._

_"Edgeworth, what is all this?" He says, looking slightly bemused._

_"It's . . ." I think about explaining but stop. "Look, I know I said come round and talk, but just do me a favour- watch a film with me. Trust me, this'll make sense eventually."_

_He furrows his brow but lays back and I start the film. It's a good film, not that that matters. All I can do is sit here feeling nauseous. The film ends._

_"That was good." he says, "I'm still not sure what the point of this is though."_

_I swallow, but my throats dry, I don't feel like I have any words. I take a sip of water. "Just go along with this, please?"_

_". . . okay?"_

_"Right, read off this piece of paper." I saw, handing a sheet I left turned over on my table._

_His eyes glance down at the sheet, "Um . . .I-I have to go now." he reads uncertainly, looking at me as though I'm mad. He's probably right._

_"Already?" I say, looking dissapointed, acting my part out. "You've only been here for a few hours, Wright-"_

_"I've been here since five- Edgeworth, this isn't even true, it makes no sense." He says, squinting at the paper._

_I roll my eyes, "Just read the Goddamn paper, Wright."_

_"I've been here since five when I got off work; that's like six hours!" He reads, his tone a little flat. I can't say I blame him for being sceptical._

_"I guess you're right." I reply, getting up and beckoning him through to the front door._

_I see something click in his eyes then, he understands. "This is the same conversation as the other-"_

_"Finally got there, did you? Just go along with it for a few more seconds." I say, sounding a lot more comfortable than I feel, but he doesn't make it too awkward. He remembers and pulls me in to kiss. It carries on for a few minutes and half way through something must jog his memory so he pulls out and tells me he really has to go. I ignore him of course. I know he doesn't mean it anyway. The paper's now lying forgotten on the floor._

_I assume he knows what he said. My script wasn't completely accurate but I'm grateful I've been blessed with such a good memory._

_"Um, Edgeworth? I err-"_

_I close my eyes, "Just spit it out." I say and I mean it too, but the words almost get caught in my throat._

_He looks me straight in the eyes. This doesn't help._

_"I love you."_

_It's crunch time. The final hurdle and I can't fall here. I've practised this hundreds of times in front of the mirror in the last 12 hours. How hard can it be? Especially since I mean it. And God knows I do, more than anything and how difficult can it really be to say how you feel?_

_" . . . I love you too." I say, relatively quickly, wanting to get it over and done with. Thing is, I actually kind of enjoy saying it._

_He looks at me, "You really mean that?" he asks me, I feel his hand snake his way into mine._

_"I do, I definitely do. I had to do this because it was how that night a few weeks ago should have gone. I should have told you then, because I did, and I have for ages but- but I'm awkward . . . about things like this and I've never really been like this with a-anyone. I'm sorry . . . Phoenix." I mean every word and I can tell he knows this, he nods through most of what I say but at the end he contorts his face weirdly and shakes his head._

_"Stop calling me that. It sounds weird hearing you say it. Just call me Wright- and I'll always call you Edgeworth, none of this "Miles" stuff, alright?"_

_"That's fine with me, as long as you don't mind what people think-" I say, knowing full well that Phoenix Wright won't care what other people think, as long as he does what makes him happy._

_I think that's just one of the many thing I **love** about him._

**Hope anyone who reads it likes it. Please review if you want :')**

**Oh btw, I've no idea why I object to them calling each other by their first names. I just can't see them doing that for some odd reason.**


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